


From the Stars With Love

by greywitchy



Series: Unrelated Spirk AUs [3]
Category: Star Trek, Star Trek: Alternate Original Series (Movies), Star Trek: The Original Series
Genre: Alien Biology, Angst with a Happy Ending, Angsty Spock, Bones had enough of this, Bottom Jim, Chris Pike is a protective grandad, First Contact, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Fluff and Smut, Jim runs aways, M/M, Mpreg, Mutual Pining, Pining, Pregnant James T. Kirk, Star Trek AU, Vulcan, Vulcan Bond, Vulcan Culture, Vulcan Kisses, Vulcan Mind Melds, engineer Jim T. Kirk, no beta we die like men, with Saavik as their daughter
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-15
Updated: 2020-11-16
Packaged: 2021-03-08 19:28:32
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 14
Words: 18,512
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27022027
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/greywitchy/pseuds/greywitchy
Summary: Jim is an explorer and engineer serving with Admiral Christopher Pike. He's working on a portable beaming device, and a malfunction accidentally lands Jim on Vulcan, a planet previously undiscovered. In Spock's garden to be exact.Spock was meditating on his life when this odd man fell on him from the sky. Perhaps, fate did exist after all.
Relationships: Amanda Grayson/Sarek, James T. Kirk/Spock
Series: Unrelated Spirk AUs [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2105001
Comments: 118
Kudos: 452





	1. Where Spock Does Not Propose

**Author's Note:**

> They've fixed the standard translator in Jim's first month on Vulcan, so, yeah, everyone understands each other by now ;)

“I shall ask him tonight, I shall,” Spock tells himself as he walks about the room. Surely, he does not pace, Vulcans do not pace. Neither do they feel nervous and, thus, he should not.

Spock stops in the middle, his hands still locked behind his back. He would rather deny the little flip his heart makes in his side, and yet, clearly, he hears Jim’s footsteps closer and closer as his _lover_ strides down the corridor.

“Mate,” whispers Spock, closes his eyes and takes a deep breath. He shall ask Jim to bond with him tonight, in a few moments more, in fact.

Spock turns his back to the door and walks over to the window. He shall pretend to have missed the footsteps, he knows it unsettles Jim that not only can Spock hear someone approaching that far up, but also tell _exactly_ that it is Jim. Spock understands that, everything has been overwhelming for Jim ever since he crash-landed on Vulcan. Crash-beamed? They have not decided on a name for the incident largely because Jim pursues to avoid the topic altogether.

Spock respects his beloved’s privacy. He has been helping Jim with the repairs of his portable beaming device, that was how they grew closer and started their relationship in the first place, however, Spock finds himself less and less cooperative. He knows Jim works on it alone as well when he believes Spock would not notice. And Spock resides himself to accept it.

“It has been six months and twenty-seven days,” whispers Spock and glances outside. He hopes yet another peculiar emotion he had never felt before Jim, and so he _hopes_ he looks fascinated enough by the view. “Since Jim materialised in our garden. Five months and sixteen days,” Spock pauses, the blazing sun sets over ShiKahr, its bright disk plunging into the darker horizon line. Far outside the city, a sandstorm rages. “Since we decided to pursue this… mutually beneficial relationship.”

Forever is a long time, a highly illogical one at that with no set boundaries and defined points.

Spock sighs and closes his eyes.

Spock wants to spend his forever with Jim.

The door opens.

“Jim–“ Spock turns around.

He is interrupted when Jim runs across the room and pounces on him. The door clicks shut, Spock does not hear anything else outside Jim, the sensations too overwhelming, too powerful to process and acknowledge each one of the swarm. Spock always gives in, he lets himself _feel_.

Jim’s lips against his. Harsh and forceful, Jim bites and shoves his tongue inside Spock’s mouth, he crashes their lips together and both keep forgetting to breathe.

Jim’s body flush against his. Jim grips his upper arms tight enough to bruise, Spock cannot care less because Jim thrusts into him so deliciously, they fit together so perfectly– Jim jerks his hands to Spock’s hips and pulls him even closer, their crotches, their chests, hands roam, they drink each other’s air, ragged breaths, hungry touches, and Spock groans as Jim moves to nibble his neck.

“Feisty?” gasps Spock, although he does not mean it as a question. Jim’s emotions wash all over him, they turn, and they beat so loud and crawl under Spock’s very skin.

Spock wonders… he wonders just _how_ will it feel once they are bonded if every Jim’s hungry touch sets his skin ablaze even now, without the bond. Perhaps, it is because their minds are increasingly competitive, and that enhances his psi-skills. Or maybe it is something uniquely _Jim_ , and there was no point in analysing it.

Jim growls and bites into the junction just above his collarbone. Feisty, indeed. And surprisingly quiet with that, Spock would expect a biting comment long by now, yet Jim–

Jim moans loudly and thrusts their hips together. Now, Spock _definitely_ does not want to ponder on it anymore.

Spock cups Jim’s face and tilts it up to leave a bruising kiss while he scoops Jim up so easily with one hand. Spock remembers their body mass difference but every time it touches his mind. An odd, gentle and light sensation Spock cannot yet put a name to.

 _Mate_. His mate. Jim was meant to be his mate, Spock realises as he lays him down on the bed and pulls the light Vulcan robe down to reveal Jim’s shoulder. Definitely better than the clothes Jim appeared in, the robes slide down Jim’s shoulders and pool at his waist if Spock is to tug on the hem. Jim moans and thrashes under him, the friction there yet hardly enough because Spock holds himself just above him. Their bodies barely brazing each other.

So beautiful. Jim gasps for breath, ragged and messy, his face is flushed a deep red shade–

His mate. And Spock shall ask him to bond with him, do anything to win Jim’s consent if that would be the case, do anything until Jim agrees. Spock pulls and unties the belt, and the robe gives in, he slides his palms against Jim’s bare body and pushes the fabric away.

Jim’s hands shake as he struggles with Spock’s robe. His numb fingers dig into the offensive cloth, clutch the fabric and try to yank it away, the knots do not budge that easily.

Spock chuckles and leans down to leave a peck on Jim’s nose. Adorable.

Desirable _._

 _Overwhelming_.

“Spock, please…” moans Jim and raises his hips up to grind into Spock.

Spock moves his palm up Jim’s arms, fingers savouring every inch of bare, hot skin, till his are pressed flush against Jim’s in what would be seen as a very obscene Vulcan kiss. Jim grins, moans at the electric sparks and entangles their fingers even further. They meet halfway in another hungry, messy and absolutely perfect kiss.

Spock pushes his own robes away. Skin against skin. Passion. The fire they share blazes, and everywhere they touch Spock feels electric sparks zap back. Intoxicating. Delirious.

Irresistible.

Guess, it shall have to wait because Spock cannot think straight anymore, and no matter how much he wants Jim for his bond mate, no coherent sentence would form in his mind. The last thing he remembers is that he would rather Jim understood everything, a Vulcan bond is permanent, a link to hold two katras together for their own _forever_. Spock decides to ask Jim first thing in the morning and gives in to the raging hunger.

***

Spock wakes up to an empty bed. His eyes fly wide open the moment he realises, and that is essentially easy, that Jim is not there. He would always wake up before Jim, Vulcans need less sleep after all, and he would always find Jim snuggled against his side, Jim’s head either on Spock’s arm or chest as Spock holds him close. And, surely, Jim used to complain about their body temperature differences, and that the room, well, every room in ShiKahr is just too hot for him–

Spock sits up. No, Jim definitely has not simply moved to the farther side of the bed. In fact, as Spock finds out as he pats the linen, it is cold, which means…

“Jim has left hours ago…” wonders Spock and looks about the room.

Jim’s robe is gone, his own still lies on the floor. Hurriedly, Spock throws it on and leaves the room.

As he soon finds out, Jim is nowhere to be seen. His beaming device is gone too.


	2. Where McCoy Doesn't Get a Sandwich

Leonard cuts himself a thick piece of venison, dips it in custard and lays it on the bread. Next, he arranges the tomato pieces and salad, onions and just a little of garlic. Leonard puts his sandwich in the middle of the plate as he bends down and takes out a small glass from the bottom drawer of his table. The Saurian brandy he pours in one swift motion and, safety, tucks the bottle back soon enough.

The medbay is empty, Leonard closes his eyes and listens to the quiet humming of the ship’s engines. He smiles and reaches for his sandwich–

And Jim Kirk decides the crash into his life once again.

“Umpf!” he falls out from nowhere and lands on the table.

Leonard snatches up the glass, still in his hand, and jumps back from the sudden ambush. The table rattles, the plate, sandwich and all, Jim knocks to the floor and somehow even manages not to get cut on the knife, it clatters to the floor as well, as Jim whirls his arms around in a weird attempt to catch himself. Probably from beaming outside time and space.

Leonard blinks and, finally, realises who’s in front of him. Oh, he’s not mad at all! How long’s Jim been gone? Six months?

“Leave it to you, kid…” Leonard grumbles, downs his glass of brandy and helps Jim sit up.

“Hey, Bones,” Jim grins back, and yet his smile is all wrong. Leonard doesn’t have to be a telepath to see that, Jim pulls on a brave face and smiles, but the corners of his mouth quiver and his eyes tear up.

And, honestly, weird brown dress or not, Jim looks worse to wear.

“What happened to you, Jim?” Leonard grasps his shoulders and looks him over.

Jim waves it off, tries to laugh it off and reaches out to hug Leonard instead.

“Missed you too, Bones,” he chuckles as his arms lock, too firmly, around Leonard’s neck.

“Alright, scanning for head injury first,” mutters Leonard, and mostly to himself, and pulls Jim away. He notices the dark, bruise?, marks littering Jim’s neck and his broken lip, pulls out his tricorder and at the same time taps the PADD.

The screen switches on with a ping.

“McCoy to bridge.”

“Maslin here,” comes out the harsh voice.

“Tell Pike to get to sickbay,” barks McCoy back as he struggles to hold Jim in place to complete, or better _start_ a scan. “Now. Kirk’s back, McCoy out.”

The line goes blank with the same ping.

“Hey, Bones, I’m okay.”

“I’m the doctor, it’s for me to decide,” snaps back Leonard, and Jim raises his hands up in defence. Which, actually, helps the cause because at least now Leonard gets to scan him properly and take a few blood, hair and tissue samples.

“Aren’t you happy to see me?” taunts Jim.

“I am,” concedes Leonards easily. “But who knows where you’ve been!”

Jim grimaces. “Well, the atmosphere was a bit thinner, and the gravitation pull is higher but– Leave that, just, er, leave that.“

Leonard pulls back as he was poking the scanner too close to Jim’s neck, and Jim yank the brown fabric higher.

“Are those…?”

“Not bruises,” agrees Jim and looks away. “Definitely not bruises.” He hunches his shoulders and lays one hand flat on his stomach, Leonard takes a mental note to check for internal bleedings _and_ any stomach-living parasites–

The door to sickbay slides open, and in strides Admiral Pike.

“Where’s he?!”

He spots Jim sitting on the table right away and rushes over, grabs him by the shoulders and hugs, his fingers must’ve brushed past the huge mustard stain right in the middle of Jim’s back, and so Pike pulls away and looks at his hand in confusion.

“That’s my sandwich,” suggests Leonard and that seems to sound reassuring enough for Pike.

Pike sighs heavily and hugs Jim, pats his back and keeps muttering something that Leonard can’t interpret. 

“I’m trying to scan him,” tries Leonard as he moves around the two to stand behind Jim at least. Pike doesn’t look like letting Jim off easily. “… but so far his vitals are normal.” He watches the tricorder screen closely for any sight of damage or unusual readings. “Never mind.”

Leonard remembers to well how the said admiral freaked out when Jim went missing. Or how he, basically, lost his shit when they viewed the recordings from the engineer labs cams and saw Jim testing his device against all orders, disregarding a few safety regulations and putting himself at risk. And then disappearing into thin air with only a pop.

Pike comes to real it too. His shoulders stiffen, and Pike pushes Jim away, yet holds him in place by the shoulders.

“Son–” starts Pike.

Leonard takes his chance to shove the tricorder in between the two and scan Jim from the front.

“Don’t!” Suddenly, Jim jerks back.

Leonard snatches his hand away before the scanner catches the image and vitals past Jim’s chest. Jim holds his palm flat over his stomach and hangs his head. His heart rate speeds up, and Jim, slowly, places his other hand over the first.

“Son…?” prompts Pike rather sternly.

Jim shakes his head and mutters something not loud enough for them to catch. Glances up and back at his hands again.

“Guess you’ll have to know anyway…” sighs Jim and steps closer. He closes his eyes, facing Leonard, and raises his hands up.

From the new position, Leonard can examine him better, and, surprisingly, Jim doesn’t even wriggle. Leonard moves the scan over Jim’s stomach first, obviously, there’s something seriously wrong there, otherwise–

Oh.

The samples ping ready and the results on the tricorder confirm it.

“Jim–“ starts Leonard.

“I’ve met someone,” says Jim and smiles sheepishly.

“Obviously.”

Pike doesn’t get it, of course. “What’s wrong with him, McCoy?”

“Well.” Leonard ushers Jim to the bio-bed to complete a full-body scan. He passes the tricorder by Jim’s stomach a few times on the way, the readings remain the same.

“I was right, wasn’t I?” Jim lies down, a sad smile plays on his face.

Pike walks over and stops on the other side of the bed.

“You know how…” Jim winces and places his both hands on his stomach. “You know how they see us in the Federation,” he throws it as a matter of fact, as something not important.

Leonard knows better. And Pike, though he doesn’t see where it comes from all of sudden knows it too.

“If anyone treated you less than you deserve, son, based on your species–“

“No, it’s alright, Chris.”

Leonard looks around medbay and shouts, “Nurse, please leave us!” Chapel might not even be in there, as far as he remembers she’s left for lunch but fifteen minutes before and shouldn’t be back. The whole _thing_ is touchy for Jim. He’d rather not get many personal involved… They’d notice soon enough anyway.

“I’m keeping it,” says Jim firmly. “End of story.”

Pike glances from Leonard to Jim and back, and the shrewd gaze pisses Leonard off. He grumbles, Jim won’t just say it, and helps Jim to loosen the weird dress and bare his stomach. Then fetches ultrasound and gets it working.

“Two months, isn’t it?” Jim raises on his elbow to see the screen, Pike leans closer and over the bed.

“I’d say three, Jim,” sighs Leonard and tilts the screen so that they can see the image.

“Son…” Pike doesn’t finish, he lowers himself onto the chair, luckily, standing not so far behind him.

And Jim… Jim collapses onto the pillow and closes his eyes.

“I was working on my device. I thought…” his voice breaks, and Leonard shushes to calm Jim down, his vitals speed up–

Jim tsk-s and pushes on. “I thought I’d perfect it enough to _travel_ between our two, er, planets? Spaces? That place is nowhere near our mapped out territories. Back and forth. But then I felt this.” Jim points at the screen without opening his eyes, and the corners of lips quiver. “I didn’t want him to find out. I… really loved him, you know?”

“Jim…” Leonard puts flips the switch, and the ultrasound screen goes dark. He places his hand over Jim’s and squeezes it. He can’t find the right words to say. “You shouldn’t worry, it’s… it’s bad for…” he nods to the now dark screen.

Pike staggers up, nearly trips over the chair’s leg but still makes it closer to Jim’s side.

“And, well,” Jim huffs a laugh. “everyone pretty much hates my kind around here. The guy, Spock,” Jim smiles so warmly that it hurts, “well, I’ve never seen him freak out. But that might do the trick.”

His hand shaking, Pike covers Jim’s other hand and holds it tightly. “If he wouldn’t have accepted you as you are, amazing, and talented, and–“

“Reckless,” suggests Leonard. Honestly, he means well but Jim and his crazy inventions would be the death of him one day.

“ _McCoy_ ,” warns Pike, so Leonard adds no more.

“Look, son, if he doesn’t accept you as we do,” and he nods between himself and Leonard, “then he doesn’t deserve you.”

Jim huffs another laugh. It’s a single, high-pitched, nervous sound, but this time Jim sniffs at the end.

“I love him too much to risk finding that one out.”


	3. Where Amanda Gets to be a Engineer

“Spock?” Amanda knocks on the door of her son’s bedroom before she pushes it open and looks inside. “Spock, darling?”

Her eyes find the hunched figure right away. Amanda feels her heart clench at the sight and forces herself to step in. She’ll try, she’d do anything for her son to get better.

“It’s been a week–“

“Six days and twenty-three hours, mother,” echos a lifeless voice. Spock doesn’t even stir, he keeps sitting with his back to her at the edge of the bed.

“Alright,” Amanda concedes willingly and walks over to him. She reaches out, her hand shakes as she feels the pain trump to her as well over their familiar bond. In this close proximity, she feels it, but when she’ll lay her bare hand on her son’s shoulder…

Amanda does it anyway. And sits down by his side, their bodies touching. The anguish, the loneliness, some anger and confusion, but mostly one word _Why_ \- sweep her off. Amanda breathes deeper and tries to concentrate, there, she’s had it all planned.

“Perhaps,” she starts cautiously, “it was an accident. Jim,” at the name Spock flinches, “was working on his device, was not he? That _was_ how he ended up with us in the first place. He could have activated it by mistake again, you know better than me how Jim is.”

Amanda slides her palm flat open against her son’s back and runs soothing circles around. Spock won’t open his eyes, he won’t look up, and only clenches his fingers, locked together and placed on his knees, tighter.

“Spock, I know…” Amanda pauses.

She _knows_ Jim loved her son, it was as clear as day. Jim never hid his emotions, always wearing them for everyone to see. And they saw it. The link between her son and Jim growing stronger and stronger with every day as their affections grew, not yet a bond, and yet too strong for casual sympathy. Most importantly, Amanda cannot imagine Jim leaving her son, and them as well, like that. Without even a goodbye.

Amanda thinks it over and tries to put the words just right. Otherwise, well, Spock will just deem her argument illogical, how can she _actually_ be sure of what Jim’s felt?

Spock stirs. “Thank you, mother.”

Right. Amanda breathes out sharply and lets everything sink into her son through her touch.

“Jim could have thought he’d perfected his device enough to visit his family and friends and then return to us,” Amanda suggests next. “He missed them greatly, surely, you knew–“

“Yes, mother.”

Amanda waits. She feels something more, something that wasn’t there before.

Spock shifts, his fingers tremble as he opens them, and Amanda sees some cog? metal piece? device? on his palm. Spock looks at the thing too.

“I want Jim back,” he says simply and as a matter of fact.

He keeps much more to himself, Amanda hears the echoes of those through their familiar bond. Betrayed. Hoping. Resolved and yet hesitating. _Lost_. So many feelings all at once weigh down on her son. That _is,_ after all, why their species chose not to feel, because when they did – they felt too much.

Spock twists the piece in his fingers. “However, I cannot seem to grasp how it should be put together.”

Ah.

“… and I find myself… overwhelmed by the sudden lack of Jim’s emotions brushing mine.”

Empty. Amanda hugs him, yet knows too well she cannot fill that space.

She _can_ help though.

“Now,” Amanda pulls on a smile and moves so that she can see her son’s face again. “How about a little helping hand?” She places hers over the piece on Spock’s open palm. “I would very much like to help you. I miss Jim, too, you know.”

“Would you?”

Amanda won’t let her smile falter. Her son’s question, quite unnecessary and in any other case Spock himself would have found it most illogical… In his current state, her son asks it still. Amanda stands up and doesn’t release his hand, she ushers Spock to stand up, by her side, and then leads him out of the room.

Spock gets a little better when they get to the lab. Well, a room, which they have provided for Jim to hold his experiments and repair his device, they all call it “the lab” by now.

Around, Amanda sees many things that Jim has left behind. The tools, out of places and scattered around, Spock did not arrange them, he just… could not. When Jim was there, Spock _would_ move the tools, and _would_ try sorting them out, and yet Jim threw them around and back into chaos every time.

This time… Amanda sits by her son and watches. She doesn’t know how, but she will do anything asked of her.

Spock works for some time, arranges some pieces, connects some wires. The heavy loneliness lifts, if only a little, and Amanda feels like she can at least breathe a little deeper again.

The device is not operational though.

“Hand me the electrical conduit, please, mother,” says Spock and doesn’t look up but stretches out his hand.

Ow. Amanda gets up and looks around. M-m…

“It lies under the windowsill, next to a piece of metal and resembles a small tube,” adds her son, and, immediately, Amanda spots it.

They go on in that fashion, Spock works – Amanda hands him the tools.

And for the first time since Jim was gone, Spock, and, thus, Amanda too feel almost content.


	4. Where Pike Paces Dignifiedly

Admiral Christopher Pike… cannot recall a time when he’s last felt this nervous. Definitely, wasn’t the Klingons, nor loitering around the neutral zone, not even when they got attacked by a force of yet-to-day unknown alien origin nearing the Zeta-8 quadrant.

Chris paces up and down the corridor and glances at the closed medbay door for at least a hundredth time. Surely, he won’t bother counting, and it’s not like the door would open if Chris glares at it more. McCoy made it pretty clear that he won’t have anyone but nurse Chapel and himself inside. And Jim. And, well, the baby once it’s there.

Chris swears under his breath, pitches the bridge of his nose and strides back down the corridor.

“ _Doctor_ McCoy said there’s no reason for concern,” a cautious female voice catches Chris off guard and he stops. Right, she’s been so quiet that Chris has entirely forgotten Uhura was there at all. He catches the emphasis on _Doctor,_ not that it makes Chris any calmer.

“It’s too quiet,” he throws and takes a deep breath. The last thing Chris wants is for the crew to see him like that. “I don’t like it.” He keeps it short, he keeps it to the point and holds his head up as he goes on with the pacing. Almost dignified.

When Chris passes the two chairs, set out in front of the medbay doors and, yes, for them both, he looks away so that Uhura misses his expression. Perhaps the only thing that can betray him, that _is_ _dignified pacing!_

Chris stops with his back to her and when there’s but a step left in front of him before the wall. Uhura’s Jim’s friend, and it’s not her scheduled shift, he was the one to abandon the con during _his_ when Jim went into labour… Uhura has the right to loiter wherever she wants on the ship. Chris can’t really chase her away, now, can he?

“I’m sure Jim and the baby will be okay,” says Uhura. Her usual soft-enough voice takes on even gentler tones. It rings around the empty, silent corridor. Soothing. “They’re in good hands.”

Chris knows that. He flinches at the sudden realisation. But does he understand that…?

“McCoy’s one of the best doctors Starfleet has,” he admits. “I’m lucky to have him on the crew,” Chris looks over his shoulder and adds quickly, “don’t tell him I said that.”

Uhura smiles and knows better to stay quiet.

Chris hangs somewhere between wanting to punch a wall or kick the door.

He just clenches his fist in the end and snaps, “But he’s also damned principled! And he’s never dealt with half an alien baby of unknown species! And Jim– Why aren’t I allowed inside? I’m the captain of this ship, and he had the guts to slam the door shut right into my face!”

Well, because Chris wasn’t leaving the first, the second and a few more times McCoy told him to. Yet shoving him outside, taking advantage of his agitated state of mind, surely, McCoy can’t be _that_ stronger than Chris is to be overpowered easily…

Chris glances up at the door one more time.

And then he hears it.

“W-a-a-ah!”

A tiny cry from the other side.

Uhura jumps to her feet and clasps her hands. “Did you hear that, Admiral?” She beams and runs across to the door, presses her ear and holds her breath.

“Medbay is sound-proof,” muses Chris before he realises that he’s already by Uhura’s side and presses his ear to the door as well.

“W-a-a-ah-wa-a-ah!” cries the baby.

“Is it healthy? Is it alright, in pain, what?!” Chris falls silent when he feels a sharp squeeze on his forearm.

“It’s a baby, Chris,” says Nyota firmly and loosens her grip. She keeps her warm hand on his arm, silent support. “They cry when they’re born, it’s a good sign.”

Chris glances at the door. They both listen.

“W-a-a-ah!”

“It _is_ very loud, though,” murmurs Nyota.

Is breaking into medbay a good idea? Chris doesn't get to finish the thought because, with a quiet ping, the door slides open.


	5. Where McCoy Is Hit by a Baby (and Everyone Else Are Too)

“… and you can see them now,” Leonard starts the sentence when Pike’s already past him. Still finishes the thought, well, at least Uhura remains outside long enough and nods to him at the end. Only then does she hurry inside as well.

“W-a-a-h!,” wails the baby.

Leonard smirks when Pike trips, the baby _is_ very loud. Uhura lingers a step behind, they both turn right and spot Jim lying in bed with the fluffy white bundle in his hands. Nurse Chapel pushes one more pillow under his back to help Jim sit up more comfortably.

“W-a-a-ah!”

Lightly, Jim rocks the baby and coos something.

“It’s a girl,” Leonard raises his voice a bit so that they hear him over the crying. Or shouting, for the past half an hour he’s known the girl, she seems to like causing trouble. Her dad, huh. Otherwise, all her reading are perfectly healthy for a newborn.

“Seven point five pounds,” Leonard goes on while filling in the data on his PADD. “Chubby cheeks, ten little fingers and ten little toes, absolutely normal.”

Pike takes place and sits on the chair by Jim’s left side, Uhura hovers over his shoulder, and Jim leans closer so that they get to see the baby.

Jim smiles weakly. He’s exhausted and hardly holding on, and yet when he grins that proudly and shows them his daughter… Leonard could probably kick everyone back out of sickbay in the next ten minutes and let them freak out at any other place. Jim needs rest.

Uhura coos.

Leonard walks back to the bed and checks Jim’s readings on the screen behind him right when Jim hooks his finger under the blanket and shows the infant’s face.

Pike gaps.

“… and two pointy ears,” Leonard smirks and types in Jim’s data.

“Wa-a,” utters the baby and goes silent.

Her round cheeks are bright red, her whole skin’s a reddish tint to it too, she clutches her tiny fists and nuzzles back into the blanket. Her eyes might be a little too dark blue for a newborn, and yet, if not for the ears, she could’ve been taken for just another humanoid baby.

“They’re so tiny,” awes Uhura and leans closer to the baby.

“And pointy,” mutters Pike.

“Oi, careful–“ tries to warn Leonard.

_Slap!_

Too late. Uhura jumps back because as soon as she’s close enough, the little girl punches her in the chin. “She’s beautiful, Jim,” she coos nevertheless as she rubs her face.

“She’s feisty,” laughs Leonard. He watches Pike with the corner of his eye, though. Pike’s alarmingly quiet.

“W-ah.” She sounds pretty proud of herself as Jim rocks her in his arms.

“S-sh.” Jim looks up and smiles. “Her other dad had pointy ears, guess it’s a strong trait because, otherwise, Bones says she’s all me.” She rocks her some more, and the little girl calms down. “Well, and the hair, it’s black, obviously.” Jim points to his own blond.

Pike’s… weird.

“Nurse?” Leonard calls out. “Could you check if Scott’s replicated enough bottles and pacifiers?”

Chapel pauses, they’ve checked it already, Scotty’s had a hard time altering the replicator on his own, but he’s done a great job. Gonna have more hard time without Jim in engineering for some time now. But then Chapel catches Leonard’s pointed look and gets the meaning.

“Sure.” She nods and leaves.

“And Uhura?” Leonard walks over and taps her shoulder. “Everyone out, Jim needs to rest.” _Doubt that pointy-eared daredevil needs any,_ Leonard doesn’t add. The girl’s trouble, he can feel it.

Uhura hesitates and glances at Pike.

“Goes to you too, admiral,” grumbles Leonard because Pike keeps ignoring him but won’t look away from the baby, unreadable expression on his face.

“Her name’s Saavik,” says Jim, and the little devil goos. Jim chuckles. “She knows it already.”

“It’s…” prompts Pike.

“Vulcan,” agrees Jim. “It’s a female name. I’ve seen it in a storybook, and once heard it called out in the market. So common but not all-common.”

“W-a-h…”

Jim grins proudly and starts rocking the bundle again. “I thought it’s a pretty name.”

Uhura nods, even Leonard would admit the name itself has a nice ring to it. Uhura fauns over the baby some more.

“And it starts with the same letter as her dad’s, his is Spock,” Jim adds. “Not sure, but it could be a thing, Spock’s father’s called Sarek. Oh, and Spock's elder brother's Sybok.”

Ugh, for all Leonard’d care about those hobgoblin’s lineage… Hm. Leonard stops typing in the data, it has a ring to it too. He might’ve never seen the species, but hobgoblins fits them. End of story. And Leonard smirks at the idea.

The smirk’s gone the moment he glances at Pike.

Pike’s acting weird. Really weird. Even Jim notices it by now, and he’s the least observant.

“Chris?” Jim calls out quietly. “Chris, you’re okay?”

Pike’s shoulders shake and he clutches his hands to keep it together.

Leonard groans and at least ushers Uhura out.

“Dad?”

Leonard stops in front of the closed door, so with his back to the two– er, three. Jim almost never calls Pike _dad_. And stopped complaining about Pike addressing him _son_ only for the past year or around so. And yet–

“Dad?” tries Jim again, Leonard watches them in the reflection on one of the switched-off screens. Jim holds the baby in one arm and reaches to touch Pike with the now-free one. “Is everything–“

He doesn’t get to finish.

“Can I?” Pike’s voice sound hoarse and broken. His hands shake as he, carefully, takes little Saavik from Jim.

“Hi…” he tries, cradles her in his arms and leans in close.

“Wa,” says the girl… And hooks Pike in the nose.

“Sorry, Chris, she’s–“ Jim sits up and shifts to take the baby from Pike.

“Perfect.”

Pike laughs and rocks her in his arms. Leonard turns around, but no, he’s seeing it still. The reflection wasn’t playing tricks on him.

“She’s perfect, son,” whispers Pike with the largest smile spreading on his face, which Leonard’s ever seen.

And then Admiral Christopher Pike starts crying.


	6. Where Sarek Conjures an Odd Man with a Baby

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And, yeah, in this AU no contact was made with Vulcan, ever. So Amanda's Vulcan but still herself ;)

“… dear?”

Sarek seizes to proceed for the uncertainty of any further inquiry. He stands by his beloved wife, Amanda, in the room, which they have previously renovated to serve as Jim’s laboratory to repair his interplanetary beaming device.

Now, Amanda fiddles with the remaining parts of machinery, checks Jim’s _handwritten_ notes, which are, besides, in the language from the planet Jim came from, and so neither Amanda nor he can decipher the meaning of the messy script. They can make a few guesses with the _carefully_ drawn schemas, however, those are also marked with exact lengths in Vulcan units of length and are written as Vulcan-readable numbers.

What Sarek fails to comprehend, is his wife’s determination to carry on with the experiment despite the fact that they, clearly and quite disappointedly, have no idea what they are doing. Sarek lingers on assessing the two options he would have rather asked, but, in the end, decides against both which might equally unsettle his wife.

Amanda _might_ feel it through their bond, and Sarek realties it and tries to shield not soon enough.

“It is for our son,” grits out Amanda and glares at him. For a mere moment, then she turns her full attention back to Jim’s messy handwriting.

“I understand, dear,” admits Sarek cautiously and walks away. He notices a disfigured metal tube on the floor and pick it up, twist it in his fingers and looks it over. “I must admit, I fail to see how operating this device is possible.”

Amanda tsk-s, and Sarek stares. It is such a not-Vulcan sound, after all, his best bet would be that Amanda accidentally copied it from Jim. Jim’s presence in their household has been… illuminating. Jim was– is highly emotional, mostly irrational and spontaneous, the qualities he, at first, found quite disturbing.

Amanda took to Jim right away. Well, for all it is worth, Sarek always knew he married no ordinary Vulcan woman. As for their son… Sarek is yet to know the answer. The signs point to a high possibility they were t’hy’la. Destined to be.

“Spock needs us,” reminds Amanda quietly and fixes another piece onto the device. She lays the machine on the table, fetches a few instruments, glances over the schemas one more time and proceeds to adjust the loose parts. “And _I_ would rather you helped me, husband. Or I am doing this on my own.”

Amanda glances around the room, and her eyes stop on one particular piece. She does not say it, Sarek knows it is what she requires through their bond and so he goes to fetch it.

“Wife.” Their fingers brush when he hands the piece over. “We are to do what we can.”

Gratitude washes over him. Sarek looks away and tries to read the schemas one more time, however pointless the previous attempts have proved to be. Now, on the back, there are some notes which remind him of velocity calculations.

Their son has never directly answered were Jim and him t’hy’la or not. All Sarek knows, is that they were never properly bonded, any spontaneous attachment should not have been strong enough for Spock’s current state of wellbeing. Now, what could have happened, is that their minds were highly competitive and reached out to each other. Then the sudden absence of Jim causes the weak link to break, both sides suffer the inflicted after effect. Spock catches a common cold, a medical condition hardly of any circumstance to any Vulcan. Yet taking the previous mental damage into account, well, no healer, which they have called upon, has been able to explain why their son has been getting weaker and weaker with every day. The first month, light fatigue, second exhaustion, and ten months after Jim’s disappearance he stopped getting out from bed at all.

This week, Spock stopped waking up. He only regains conciseness, if for a few minutes, when his wife or Sarek himself were to call upon him through their familiar bond. With Sybok, a link weaker, it fails.

“Husband,” warns Amanda.

“Yes, wife.” They go on working on the device together. Perhaps, Jim would have said not to lose hope.

Sarek pauses for a second, now that he thinks about it, Jim could have imprinted on him as well more than he ever realised.

And then he, suddenly, gets it.

“We appear to have been reading it all wrong,” Sarek says and tilts the note to the side. He remembers now, quite clearly, Jim would write from the left side to the right, and the calculations, Vulcan numbers or not, must follow the same pattern.

Sarek frowns as he reads on.

“They might not make much sense to me,” he admits and glances at his wife.

Amanda smiles, a wide, genuine smile he has fallen in love with. He might have never seen another Vulcan woman smile as openly as did his wife.

“They are Jim’s calculations, dear,” she says and places her cleaner hand, the other is all black in machine oil and whatnot, on his forearm. “We do not analyse them, we _believe_ in them.”

***

“Son?” calls out Chris quietly as he enters the engineering.

The only answer he gets is the machinery humming.

“Jim?” Chris raises his voice a little and looks around. He rocks Saavik and hugs her to his chest, yet she doesn’t seem to wake up. Only goos and goes back to drooling into his yellow uniform shirt. Chris is off shift, though.

“Hey,” Jim pops out of nowhere. As usual.

Chris rolls his eyes but walks closer, and Jim waves and beams even wider.

“How’s she?” Jim crawls out from behind the reactor he’s been working on, rubs his dirty hands on some towel and throws it over his shoulder.

“No.” Chris steps back, cradles Saavik with only one arm and pushes Jim’s _still dirty_ hand away. “You have fuel under your fingernails, and your hands are pitch black.”

“It’s compound–“

Chris shakes his head and takes another step back. “Uh-huh. She’s,” he takes Saavik in both hands, “fine. Been sleeping like a perfect angel for the past two and a half hours and not the little warrior we know she is.”

Jim laughs, and Chris chuckles. Of all the staff on the ship who dared to lean in the cradle and awe, which is _all_ the staff on the ship, let’s face it– Of all the staff on the ship, Saavik has successfully punched, snapped, hooked or kicked everyone. No exceptions.

Chris is starting to dodge those.

Saavik stirs and nuzzles into his chest. Her skin’s pale, and short pitch-black hair hardly covers her pointy ears. Saavik blushes often, the red colours her chubby cheeks.

Jim chuckles and looks proudly at his daughter. Some things, Chris can’t still understand.

Chris walks around the engineering and spots a bench in the corner. He sits down, Jim mops the sweat off his forehead with the same dirty towel and then joins him, though keeps a few inches away.

The machinery hums quietly. The ship vibrates if only a little as they sail through a dangerous meteorite-abound zone.

“Why did you think _he_ would leave you, son?”

Jim jumps at the question.“What?!”

“W-a-ah,” whines Saavik at the noise, and Chris rocks her, as Jim clasps his hand over his mouth.

“Why did you think he would leave you?” insists Chris because he _has to know._ He’s waited for Jim long enough to tell him. “Spock.”

“Oh.” Jim flinches at the name as well, that’s why Chris would rather not say it right away.

Jim looks away. Saavik drools and drifts back to sleep.

“I… I didn’t,” admits Jim and fiddles with his fingers. He stares somewhere in the distance, at the machines churning and thudding their usual pace. “I panicked, okay? It’s just that, er, well, not everyone around here likes us? They never quite did, and, yeah, remember that girl, Asha, I used to see? Dem too?” Jim cringes. “She took it a little better, the guy freaked the hell out, but they’ve both made it very clear they want nothing to do with me after I told them of… my heritage.”

“Never liked both,” points out Chris. It’s true, he just never said anything when Jim was so happy to date them.

Jim huffs a laugh, and a weak smile tugs at the corners of his lips. “And Spock… I had no idea how he’d react. I panicked, the damn hormones got to my head, and I fled before I thought it over.”

 _Sounds like you, son,_ thinks Chris, and yet stays quiet. Jim has enough to deal with as it is.

They fall silent. Chris _knows_ , feels there’s more to the story, and so he waits. Listens to the humming and rocks Saavik in his arms.

“And, well, you’ve never met the guy. He was, he was kinda serious about this, about us? A-and you know how well me and a serious commitment go together. He loved me, and it was… intense. He looked at me like I was his whole world, you don’t just get used to something like that! I… loved him back the same much, you know? Scared the shit out of me.”

Jim suffocates, and Chris pats his shoulder. “Breathe. Okay?”

Sharply, Jim breathes out and nods. Too quick, his movements are all too jerky – too wrong.

“So maybe,” Jim blurts, _chokes_ out, “maybe it wasn’t just about the baby bump after all. The more I think about it… the more I realise I was scared of _us._ A family. Forever together, you know, on Vulcan they get married for life?” Jim laughs, and Saavik stirs at the noise again. “Funny…” Jim laughs, it comes out all wrong. He chokes and gasps for breath, and hugs himself as he leans closer to Chris.

“W-ah?” Saavik wakes up, opens her eyes and moves her head.

“I never realised how much I _want_ exactly that.” Jim gestures about. Helpless. He flexes his blackened fingers and settles them on his lap in the end.

“Son.” Chris rocks Saavik in his arms, though now she wakes up, it won’t be easy. Saavik stirs and punches him in the chest, and Chris dodges the next one aimed at his nose. Meanwhile, Chris also moves closer to Jim, and Jim leans to his shoulder.

…

“What’s that?!” Chris jumps to his feet and whirls his head about. He didn’t imagine it, surely–

The floor vibrates under his feet.

Jim gasps and runs to a device– wait, is that?!

“Did you serially activate your damn beaming device with a baby in the room?!” shouts Chris. He can’t believe it!

“I didn’t!” snaps Jim and slams a few buttons. The device, half-constructed, half-taped lies on the floor and Jim hovers over it and punches more buttons and parts of it. “It activated on its own, it’s like…” Jim stares and falls silent. Then clacks his teeth as he closes his mouth. “Like it’s been activated on the _other side,_ ” he wonders. “I… can’t switch it off!”

“Wa-a-ah!” wails Saavik as the noise grows. The engineering dock shakes, and Chris balances to stay on his feet as the whole ship seems to tilt to one side.

“Jim!” yells Chris.

The sirens blare, and the yellow alert goes off.

“Jim, what's gonnae oan?” shouts Scotty from outside as he runs down the corridor.

“Bridge to engineering,” buzzes the communicator, “bridge to engineering, engineering, do you copy?”

“Bridge to captain,” buzzes Chris’s communicator at his belt. “We have an emergency in engineering–“

“W-a-ah!”

“It would open three feet away,” shouts Jim and points at the spot. “Like the last time, I’ve calculated it. I– I’m going, Chris.”

Jim’s always been reckless, Chris knows that. Spontaneous. He never thinks, he does things.

“I’m going to see Spock,” he decides just like that. What’s been weighing Jim down for months. “And then I’ll be back.”

Chris sh-s and rocks Saavik in his arms, he back farther away from the device and to the engineering door. He hugs Saavik close, the doors open, Chris bumps into someone running in, must be Scotty, they both stop.

“Take care of her for me, dad,” shouts Jim over all the noise and pulls on a smile. “Please?”

Scotty pushes past him and into engineering–

“Like I’d ever–“ Chris doesn’t get to finish. The blast ripples, he sees Jim’s eyes widen, Jim yells something, and yet Chris doesn’t hear the exact words.

Because the floor opens right under his feet.

***

“A-a-h!” Amanda cries out, as the floor vibrates and the whole room shakes. “Did you enter the sequence?” shouts Amanda. “All the numbers in the same order as Jim has written them?!”

The beaming device roars and pulsates, the wave from it throws Amanda off her feet even as she jumps back. She hits the wall, Sarek runs to her, yet falls, still pushes up to his hands and knees and pulls his wife farther into a corner. He cradles her against his chest and shifts so that any possible blast would hit his back first. They cannot vacate the room, the device they have positioned in the middle and so now it cuts off the exist from where they are.

“Yes, I have only alternated–“

Amanda slaps his arm. “You were supposed to enter them!”

“However, that particular–“

“I don’t care!”

“… was not making any sense at all,” Sarek finishes anyway. He winces at the pure anger raging on through their bond. “Such a coordinate–”

“Husband–”

The beaming device explodes. At least, Sarek believes it does, the device booms, Sarek sees it set off and shuts his eyes and expects the impact… which appears to never come.

Sarek opens his eyes, his vision does not focus right away, and blinks. His wife wiggles by his side and gasps for breath, her face still buried in the front of his robes.

“It…” Sarek cranes his neck and eyes the still, and quite an intact device, scrutinously. “It looks like we have achieved a negative result.”

“Why?” Amanda pushes him away and struggles to get up to her feet.

“No person has appeared in the room,” Sarek points out and stands up as well. He looks around and takes in the mess.

Through the bond, the thick, heavy and helpless disappointment dribbles over him.

And then Amanda seems to realise something. Her eyes light up, and she beams.

“Jim didn’t appear in the house!” she exclaims. “He’s fallen over Spock in the garden, remember?”

Sarek catches her as Amanda attempts to run, and yet her knees will not hold her. He helps his wife to the nearest chair, the pulsating and so foreign _hope_ gets too much to bear–

And Sarek runs off to check the grounds himself.

Outside, he stops dead in his tracks.

In the garden, right by the mediation pool, an odd man with a bundle in his hands stands up. He rocks it and, carefully, cradles close to his chest as if it might be something precious. He wears the same odd clothes as Jim, Sarek remembers the shirt, although this man's is yellow and not red like Jim's, and pants of a peculiar cut. He is, _definitely_ , not Jim, and Sarek cannot bear the heavy emotion drowning him. He has never experienced anything like it before, he cannot name it.

The man must have heard Sarek's heavy breathing, his age is not appropriate for running across the whole house after all. The odd man starts to turn around.

And then–

"W-a-ah!" cries the bundle.


	7. Where Pike is the Odd Man with a Baby

“W-a-ah?” mumbles Saavik and grasps a handful of his uniform, and Chris holds her tight to his chest.

Suddenly, the floor is back under his feet, Chris doesn’t even land as rough as he expected. He falls a few inches, and then–

Where _is_ he? Chris checks the floor, okay, ground, first. He stands firmly on his two feet, both intact, and that’s definitely grass, and so Chris looks around. It’s hot, no breeze, nothing, the air smells kind of fuzzy, and his body… _feels_ weird. Chris shifts Saavik to his shoulder and holds her with one arm, then stretches out the other arm to the side and flexes his fingers.

“Heavier, huh,” Chris notes to himself and takes Saavik back in both hands. Now, she weighs much heavier too. “Higher gravity.” He recalls what Jim said about the place, some planet Vulcan. ”Less dense air.”

If that was, indeed, where he ended up. Damn, Jim and his experiments!

Scarce vegetation, a patch of garden in the middle of sands doesn’t count for much. Sands. Orangish sky. More sand dunes on the horizon, and on the other side a huge city opens up.

“So. Vulcan.” Chris leans to Saavik and shakes her a little. “Guess _we_ are seeing your other father and not your daddy.”

“Go-u,” says Saavik and smiles, her cheeks flush red when she does and–

“A-ha, no.” Chris chuckles and moves away before she punches him. Saavik slaps the air, as Chris waves his finger from a safe distance. “Behave, little missy, alright?”

“N-n-ah.” And Saavik bumps her forehead, full force, into his chest instead.

Now, _that_ ’s new. Chris flinches a little bit, luckily, Saavik’s not stronger than a human baby. Because Jim’s told him about those Vulcans and their thrice superior strength, and Chris would rather not deal with any baby of that destruction magnitude. Saavik _is_ smarter than most babies her age, though, but that can be Jim.

“Troublesome genius,” mutters Chris and coos at Saavik. “Your daddy’s a genius but a total pain in your grandad’s– ahem.” Chris looks around one more time, his eyes linger on the fence – climb out? – or the house – knock? enter? “Hope, your daddy gets us out of here soon enough.”

And it’s then when Chris hears the heavy breathing behind them and whirls around.

The other man pants and straightens his back. Their eyes clash.

“W-a-a-a-ah!” cries out Saavik.

“Sho-sh-sh.” Chris snaps out of it and rocks her in his arms while the other man keeps staring.

Rather old, perhaps a few years more than Chris but who knows those Vulcans. Bulky dark robes. A deep green flush on his face and dark circles and wrinkles under his eyes. And, well, pointy ears, they stick out quite obviously from the greying black, bowl-cut hair.

Saavik seems to calm down, and Chris cradles her against his chest. She grabs two handfuls of his yellow shirt this time.

As for the man… The Vulcan moves closer. Chris takes the same two steps towards him as well.

If this is the house, and, from the outside, it matches Jim’s description, then this must be the Vulcan. Old. Stoic. Expressionless. _No sense of humour,_ Chris adds by himself.

The Vulcan checks Chris as Chris checks him. No idea for _what_ , though, because Chris doubts Jim bothered to describe him to his Vulcan-boyfriend’s dad, or at least describe well enough to tell it was Chris. Could be the uniform.

The Vulcan takes one more step, and so does Chris. He keeps the stare, answers it even, and mirrors the pose: broad shoulders, head up high. He might not look all-dignified with Saavik in his arm, bundled up in a cute plush outfit with ears. But Chris holds himself so. Never mind the Vulcan being thrice as strong as him, not to mention _actually knowing_ where he was.

Or maybe not. Chris keeps the laugh in because the Vulcan looks just so confused as he studies Chris and especially the bundle in his arms.

Good thing Jim’s entered Vulcan in the database, and so Chris’s standard translator can handle it as well.

“Are you Sarek?” asks Chris first and, definitely, does not stretch out his hand. Jim’s told him it’s Vulcan kissing, and Chris is, definitely, not kissing Spock’s dad. Since he thinks he has to do something, Chris makes a move in between a nod and a bow, Sarek would have to satisfy himself with it.

Sarek takes it worse than expected. Chris was thinking he’d realise, Chris knows Jim to know who Sarek was, but the Vulcan stutters and pales, his eyebrows shoot up, which might be labelled as Vulcan freaking out. Or maybe it wasn’t Sarek after all, and Chris’s just freaked out a random Vulcan.

“How do you know my name?” grits out, okay, Sarek.

“… –“ Chris only gets to open his mouth.

“W-a-ah!” wails Saavik and head bumps Chris into the chest. She wriggles and slams her tiny fists too.

Sarek pales more, it’s like all colour leaves his face, as his eyes widen and eyebrows lift higher.

“I-is that…?” Sarek stutters but jerks forward, he reaches out–

Chris turns right just before Sarek touches the fluffy outfit. And Saavik.

Sarek draws a shaky breath and retreats back a step, which is still too close for Chris’s liking. Not the Vulcan but the way he now looks at Saavik unsettles Chris.

“How…” Sarek falls silent and, well, just stares.

For some reason, Saavik quietens too and wriggles to move so that she can look at Sarek. She doesn’t kick Chris, surprisingly, in the process, and so Chris shifts his posture back, facing Sarek. The fluffy hood still covers her head, so Sarek shouldn’t have spotted the ears. Otherwise, Saavik’s humanoid: red chubby cheeks and all.

Sarek stares. Chris narrows his eyes and watches the Vulcan’s every move, which is none. Saavik blinks and looks at Sarek too. And… is he breathing? Are all Vulcans this weird?!

“This is Jim’s daughter,” Chris says firmly. “I assumed your name was Sarek from what Jim’s told me.”

“Affirmative.” Sarek tightens his lips and can’t seem to look away or take a single breath.

Should Chris tell him? Maybe Sarek will help them, how about at least invite in to see that Spock?

“My name is Sarek, it is…” He traces off. “This baby…” Blinks. “This baby is related to me.” Snaps his head up and–

Wow, the–!? Jim’s mentioned something about telepathy. Okay. Chris is past the point he stopped caring other than for Saavik anyway. How would McCoy say? Freakish hobgoblins.

Outside the garden, a hot breeze raises up piles of sand.

“Long story short,” Chris says quickly before Sarek has a heart attack, do Vulcans get heart attacks?, “Jim’s species breed both male and female. So this is Jim’s and your son’s daughter, yes, she would be related to you as well.”

Sarek stares. Saavik goos and turns away from him. Looks like she’s tired of him, and nuzzles into Chris’s uniform shirt instead.

“Are you…” Chris drawls it out because, clearly, Sarek looks nowhere near fine, “alright?”

Sarek flinches at that and jerks forward again, he barely grazes the plush bundle before he snatches his hand away again. And by himself, it’s not like Chris would slap the man for touching his, well, _their_ granddaughter.

“May I–“ Sarek’s voice breaks. He caught into his fist, “I apologise,” and gestures about. “Could I see the baby?”

Ugh. “Not a baby,” insists Chris as he pulls the hood down so that Sarek would see her head. Black hair, little pointy ears and all, “she’s a girl. A daughter.”

“Daughter…” Sarek awes. The neutral stoic expression melts into something of sheer wonder. Godly worship even. “This is… this should be impossible, and yet here she is defying what we have assumed to be our fate…”

Well, Jim’s mentioned _Spock_ would look at him like he was his whole world. But Sarek? Chris is still very concerned Sarek might suffocate if he doesn’t breathe normally any time soon.

“No, are you _really_ alright?” Chris tries again. “You look, well, not alright.” _To put it mildly_ , Chris keeps to himself.

Sarek coughs into his fist. “I apologise. However, seeing her I happen to realise our entire planet’s population has been wrong for centuries.” Sarek steps back, first fiddles with his hands as if he can’t decide what to do with them, and then he clasps them behind his back. “May I inquire after your name?”

“No.” Chris holds his ground as Sarek _glares_ at him. He doesn’t, not really, but if those Vulcans are as emotion-showing-less as Jim’s described them, that flick of an eyebrow and narrowed eyes would be a glare. “Tell me what’s going on first.”

Chris doesn’t like it all, any minute even more so. The sun’s blazing too, and with this air– never mind him, he’d survived worse, but Saavik’s biologically humanoid! Not some Vulcan-whatever, no mater how pointy-eared she looks.

“If I am to be quite frank with you, and I detest to be so, yet the circumstances–“

“Are what?” Chris urges impatiently.

Sarek looks away and takes a deep breath. Well, finally. Chris is so not keen on explaining to Jim why Spock’s dad suffocated from talking to him. When Jim gets them out of here, as for now, Chris would rather go and see that Spock of Jim’s. And Sarek keeps standing there in the middle of the paved path and not inviting Chris into the house.

“The Vulcan population,” starts Sarek cautiously, “the whole population of Vulcan has been slowly dwindling for the past two hundred years. Each generation fewer females are born, thus, fewer females give birth the next generation.” Sarek turns around and starts walking towards the house, and so Chris takes it as an invitation. “And you are– you are saying there’s a race, species out there compatible with us enough to produce offspring, a daughter to amplify the implication, without medical intervention. Who breed both male _and_ female. This could– this could change everything.”

“Yeah, wai-wait, what?!” Chris stops.

“W-ah?” Stirs Saavik in his arms.

Sarek glances back, his eyes linger on the bundled-up Saavik fondly. He looks at her like she’s a miracle, okay, she is, Chris won’t argue.

“There’s a species out there,” reports Sarek, “fully compatible with ours, with who we would be able to breed and produce healthy offspring without drastically changing the genetic pool. It changes everything. We must report it by the Vulcan High Council right away–“ Suddenly, Sarek turns on his heels and marches off from the house and to the fence, gate?

“Wait up–“ Chris dashes after him.

“If the Council is notified,” points out Sarek, “they would come to the most logical conclusion, which would be establishing contact.” He doesn’t make it far before he starts panting. “Do you see it? They would dispatch all… powers of the Science Academy to replicate Jim’s beaming device… you would be transported back–“

Chris keeps up, he gasps for breath only because of the damn lighter air. Perhaps, also his own body weighing more than it should while carrying a heavier Saavik.

But this is it! Chris stops dead in his tracks, Sarek makes it farther a few feet, and Chris cries out, “You are not using my granddaughter as leverage!”

“Wa-ah.” Saavik bumps her head into his chest once and pokes with her little fist.

Sarek turns around sharply and opens his mouth. Stutters, coughs into his fist and excuses himself. Then eyes Chris quite differently as before.

“Mr Kirk–“ tries Sarek.

“Not mister, it’s Admiral,” Chris interrupts, and Saavik goos at that. “Not Kirk either. It’s Admiral Christopher Pike.”

Sarek quicks one eyebrow.

“Ugh, look, no, never married Jim’s mom to be his stepdad, but I was George’s best friend.” Chris cringes at the memory, the court case wasn’t pretty. “George was Jim’s biological father, he died in action. Then his mother was gone too, and I won custody over the boy from that douchebag Frank she’s married.” Chris rocks Saavik to lull her to sleep and, quickly, adds, “He made a bad stepdad, I proved it, they left the boy with me. So I brought Jim up, I’m Jim’s dad now, end of story.”

Sarek doesn’t blink or breathe for some time. Something changes about him, like you see the cogs turning in his head only not really. And the said Vulcan’s face betrays no emotion, perhaps but a bit of awe, at all.

“Are you…?” Chris’s given up asking it by now.

Sarek half-bows and walks back to him, his hands clasped behind his back.

“Admiral Pike, I respect thee.”

Chris narrows his eyes at the sudden admission. “Is it supposed to be mutual? No offence, but I do not return the sentiment.”

Sarek watches him for a moment and then, finally, sighs, “No.”

“Good. Now, where were we? Right.” Chris glares and shifts Saavik higher. She goos happily and drums her fist against Chris’s shoulder.

Species, breeding and all the nonsense! Saavik is as much as Chris’s granddaughter as she Sarek’s, well, biologically more so for the latter– And he treats her like– like a specimen! Like some kind of a favourable outcome of an experiment to present to some council, even of the said council might help them get back to his ship and crew. Who needs their help anyway? Jim’s figuring it out any time soon, no way he’d leave his dad and daughter stuck on Vulcan.

“You are not using my granddaughter as political leverage, do I make myself clear?!” snaps Chris because Sarek watches him just too intently. You aren’t supposed to scrutinise people like that. “And what do you mean by _breed –_ you can’t just go into Federation space and snatch up our people. Now _that_ I forbade as a Starfleet Admiral.”

Surprisingly, Sarek nods. Quite solemnly so. “I apologise. I am overwhelmed, which made me sound straightforward.”

Overwhelmed? Colour Chris impressed because Sarek looks nowhere near _slightly excited._ Apart from when he glances at Saavik, then he awes obviously enough.

“I never meant to imply breed as in forcefully enclosure Jim’s species with ours. Meeting them, their bare existence presents a change good enough to convince the council–“

“You are not using my granddaughter as political leverage,” mutters Chris one last time and pinches the bridge of his nose.

Saavik cheers, now that Chris holds her with only one arm, and she gets to slap his shoulder all she wants. The kid’s a little warrior, no doubt growing up to become as much trouble as her dad. At least Jim had the _T_. in his name to explain the _trouble_. Saavik’s got an _N._

Someone comes. Chris turns around when he hears hurried footsteps, could it be that Spock’s finally decided to show up?

But, no, it’s a concerned-looking woman in long beige and brown robe with a shawl covering some of her pitch-black hair.

She strides what seems to be right at them, only Chris is sure she couldn’t have spotted them through the bushes. Telepathy? Whatever.

The woman spots them, misses one step and eyes Chris, and then rushes over.

“Sarek, what’s going on?” she calls out.


	8. Where Amanda Meets the Odd Man with a Baby

Amanda has not the slightest idea what’s going on right in front of her. There’s Sarek, alight, he’s arguing with some man she’s never met before. No Jim in sight. The said man wears the same cut-uniform, if a yellow shirt and not red like Jim’s was. He’s somewhat blondish with greying strikes.

On the man’s shoulder, rests a fluffy bundle.

“Husband?” calls out Amanda sternly and gives him a look.

Sarek looks up, shakes his head once and goes on to argue with the stranger.

Amanda’s almost annoyed. She tightens her lips and raises one eyebrow, as she crosses her arms other her chest. Almost, uh-huh.

The bundle moves. Out pokes a little fist, then a tiny head with short black hair. Amanda awes and walks closer, the baby smiles and waves at her.

“… besides, Saavik’s humanoid! Red blood, humanoid body density and strength, our organs–“ heatedly carries on the stranger.

“Saavik?” interrupts Amanda as she stops by his side. She looks from her husband to the odd stranger before turning all her attention back on the baby.

The man moves his shoulder with the bundle, and the baby goos happily. 

“Her name’s Saavik,” he throws and, definitely, tries to pass it off as nothing of importance.

Sarek falls silent, all colour drains his face, and he stares with his eyes wide open.

Well, it _is_ a Vulcan name, though the stranger’s clearly not Vulcan. Amanda glances him over once again, her eyes linger on the round ears, same as Jim’s. They could be the same species. They wear the same kinds of uniform if different divisions. Amanda also recognises the stripes and the coat of arms, badge?, on the uniform shirt.

“Jim’s named her, I didn’t get a say in it,” grumbles the stranger and glares at Sarek.

“Wo-o-ah,” says the baby and stretches her arms towards Amanda.

“Oh.” Sarek seems to gain his composure back.

Amanda can’t quite look away from the baby. It’s– _she’s_ so cute. Amanda has no idea why she’s that sure, it’s a girl, the white bundle has no gender identification whatsoever. Suddenly, she just knows along with the odd warm sensation grazing their familiar bond in her head.

Wait, did he say _Jim?_ Is that _Jim’s_ baby?! But what about– Why– Who!?

“Wah,” announces the baby and punches the man in the shoulder.

He flinches and shakes her in his arms gently. “Hey, what’s up, tiger?”

Amanda cocks her head.

Sarek raises both of his eyebrows. “What is the thing you are calling her, admiral Pike?”

The man, some admiral apparently, waves him off. Amanda bites back a laugh, nobody would dare shut up her husband like that before. Well, rather than herself. Guess she’s warming up to the odd man, even if she’s utterly devastated they didn’t get Jim but him instead.

“Wah,” insists the baby girl and reaches to her.

“Oh.” The man looks up and sees Amanda, properly notices her there for the first time.

“Admiral Pike,” announces Sarek and gestures to her, “this is she who is my wife–“

“Ah.”

Amanda chuckles this time, Pike’s done it again. Sarek glares at the interruption.

“You want to grandma?” softly, he asks the baby girl.

“Wa,” she agrees and slaps his shoulder again. The other hand she holds out towards Amanda, closes and opens her tiny fingers.

Amanda flinches at the sudden tug on their familiar bond. It’s rough, purely instinctual.

“Grand... ma?”

The baby’s trying to get her attention all she can.

Amanda shoves her arms out for Pike to hand the girl over. She’ll think about everything later.

“Careful,” Pike says with a warm smile, “she’s a fighter.”

The bundle’s very light, much lighter than a Vulcan baby would be.

“Her name‘s Saavik,” wonders Amanda.

The little girl laughs and nuzzles into her chest. The tiny fingers clutch the bulky robe. Saavik blushes red, and yet her ears are pointy. Just like... them.

“Call me Amanda...” she says without looking up at Pike.

The baby... Saavik, and Jim’s named her... Amanda blinks, her eyes tear up as Saavik snuggles close and, well, almost purrs. The warmth settles through the familiar bond.

“Wow,” wonders Pike and gestures about, “you’re the first person she didn’t kick. Which is like, the first person among the three hundred seventy-six of my crew.” He nods somewhere to the side.

Amanda holds her finger to Saavik, and she clenches it in her tiny fist. Amanda never was psi-high. Now, with their hands touching... they _are_ related. Did he– did Pike say _grandma?_ As in _grandmother_...?

Sarek walks closer to them. His annoyance at being completely ignored Amanda feels through the bond. She doesn’t care much and nudges him away, Saavik’s just too– too...? Amanda can’t yet name this feeling.

Sarek coughs. “Wife, this is Admiral Christopher Pike,” he introduces. “He who is Jim’s father.”

Amanda jerks her head up and looks at the man. Actually looks for the first time and not just glances over. They, Jim and Pike, don’t look a lot like each other. Then, there’s also another surname–

“Wa-ah.” Saavik tugs on her robe, and Amanda returns all attention to her instead.

Pike sighs and rubs the bridge of his nose. “Long story short,” groan, “again. Saavik’s Jim’s and Spock’s daughter. Jim’s species breed male and female, Jim’s given birth to her three months ago.”

Amanda... has trouble processing all of it. Yet, in her arms, right now and right there, is her granddaughter. The warmth overwhelms her, washed over and sweeps her off her feet.

Saavik seems to feel it too, she still holds onto Amanda’s finger after all. Amanda’s shields melt. Saavik goos and smiles as she nuzzles against Amanda’s chest.

And Amanda does the most undignified and un-Vulcan thing. She holds Saavik close and... squeals.


	9. Where Pike Learns a Vulcan Word

“... Spock would’ve loved to meet her,” says Amanda. She walks next to Chris and holds Saavik in her arms. 

Chris’s decided to let it so, apparently, Saavik’s taken to her grandma right away and a lot. Chris isn’t very much jealous, the only time Sarek tried to lean to the baby girl in his wife’s arms, Saavik’s almost broke his nose.  That was one good punch, thinks Chris with pride.

Well, he doesn’t like Sarek. He kinda likes Amanda though. Plus, Saavik’s a  human-heavy baby, so the Vulcan woman has no trouble holding her for long. However, slender and rather weak she looks.

Chris himself, on the other side, has been feeling worse. Guess the atmosphere and extra gravity are getting on him. Wonder how Jim’s made it through for months.

Chris blinks, something clicks wrong. He lingers a step behind, Amanda and Sarek now a step ahead on both of his sides... Oh. Chris takes a deep breath and pinches the bridge of his nose. His head stops spinning.

“Would have?” Chris asks. “Aren’t we going to him?” They were supposed to go and meet that Spock of Jim’s.

Amanda and Sarek share a look.

“We are,” agrees Sarek calmly and folds his hands behind his back.

“Kind of,” admits Amanda. She looks down at Saavik, and a sad smile touches the corners of her lips. 

Saavik goos happily and rubs her red cheek against her grandma’s robe.

“Kind of?” huffs Chris and crosses his arms over his chest. Clearly, he doesn’t like it. “Look, I’m not moving until you–“

“It’s a... Vulcan thing.” Sarek gestures ahead, invites Chris to continue walking down yet another corridor of what seems like their endless house.

“How so?” insists Chris.

Saavik clasps a handful of fabric and seems to remember of her other grandparent. She whirls her tiny head around and cranes her neck till her eyes find Chris. Chris smiles at her, then goes to glaring back at Sarek. Amanda rocks Saavik in her arms.

“Ga,” announces Saavik and points at Chris. “Wa,” comes next as she nuzzles back against Amanda.

“T’hy’la.” Sarek turns on his heels and continues along the corridor.

Chris tightens his lips and keeps the biting remark to himself. He turns to Amanda instead.

“The closest translation would be... soulmate,” she says.

Chris walks over to her. Amanda sighs and walks on as well, Chris falls in her step, whereas Sarek marches farther ahead of them.

“Your species don’t die of a broken heart, do they?” Amanda tilts her head and runs her finger through Saavik’s short black hair. 

Saavik looks up, her dark-blue eyes wide open. Those have brownish strikes now, have been turning darker from Jim’s light blue for a while now. Chris notices both Amanda and Sarek have brown eyes. Guess Saavik’s going there too.

Chris clears his throat to prompt Amanda. She doesn’t go on right away.

“No, not really...” Amanda holds Saavik closer. “But once Jim told me a story, some kind of your children’s tale, there, the King would wither away and die of a cold after his Queen was gone. He didn’t die of a broken heart, merely let the first thing finish him once his heart was broken. His soulmate gone.”

Chris has no idea where this is going. He knows the tale, sure–

“Here.” Sarek stops abruptly in front of the same-looking door. There’s a whole corridor of those.

“And?”

“Our son’s...” Amanda starts but traces off. She can’t finish it for some reason.

“Spock’s caught a cold,” says Sarek coldly and pushes the door open.

Chris peeks inside, he spots the large bed in the middle. Shadows creep into the corridor from inside. It’s dark, the heavy curtains are tightly drawn on the huge window.

“Are you...” Suddenly, it strikes Chris. “Are you saying he’s  dying because Jim’s left!?” Chris cries out.

“Wa-a-ah!” wails Saavik at the noise.

“Sh-h-h,” coos Amanda and shakes her in her arms.

“I’m saying,” grits out Sarek and remains holding the door out for Chris to walk inside, “Spock does not  want to wake up because his t’hy’la has left him.”

Fuck. Chris curses in his head, over and over, and dashes to the bed. The man, well, he looks bad. Really bad. Paler than death, dark circles under his eyes, short black hair, same as Saavik’s, by the way, the hair sticks to his forehead. 

The warm blanket covers Spock up to his chin. He doesn’t move, doesn’t stir or open his eyes. Slowly, his chest rises and falls. Too slowly. Too shallow.

Damn, son, why would you even think this man would leave you because you’re a pregnant male... Chris pushes the thought away, it’s not the time, he’s definitely tugging Jim by the ear later.

For now–

“He’s been like this...?” Chris looks behind and prompts.

Sarek, his hands still behind his back, turns his back on him and walks over to the window. 

“The past month,” answers Amanda. She takes the chair by Spock’s bed, and Chris plumps down onto the other.

Chris takes a deep breath.

“He used to wake up before,” Amanda goes on and rocks Saavik in her arms. “If you’re referring to when it all started, then it would be days after Jim’s... disappeared.”

Chris chokes.

“Wa,” disapproves Saavik.

Crap. Chris curses all the times he’s thought bad of Spock. You know, if Jim somehow got the idea Spock might leave him if he knew about the baby, perhaps something got that idea into Jim’s head. Chris... has known a few, but too many in his opinion, of those cases around Jim’s species. 

Jim’s second reason... okay, knowing Jim, he’d freak out from a feeling like this. Spock’s literally dying because he loves Jim, and Jim’s abandoned him! Commitment and all, but Chris would be damned if he’s letting the man die right after Jim’s come to terms with it all.

“Hey,” calls out Chris and moves his chair closer to Spock’s bed. 

No reaction.

“Hello, Spock?” Chris tries again and taps what looks like Spock’s palm under the blanket. “My name’s Chris, Christopher Pike. I’m Jim’s dad.”

No reaction at all.

“Occasionally, he moves if we...” Amanda pauses. “If we call him.” She taps her temple in a weird gesture. “Through our familiar bond.”

“Telepathy?” guess Chris.

Amanda nods. Sarek doesn’t stir.

“Can you?” Chris moves a little aside to make space for Amanda, yet she stays where she is.

“Not recently, no.” She hangs her head. Helpless. Tears swell in the corners of her eyes.

“Wa-a,” half a question, half a sad wail. Saavik nuzzles into her.

“Husband can, however,” Amanda points out.

Chris glares. Wait, hey, wasn’t it how Sarek realised Saavik was theirs as well in the first place? 

“I think Saavik can too,” Chris says quickly. “She’s got your telepathy, does she not!?”

“Saavik’s relatively psi-low,” starts Sarek.

“We should try it!” blurts out Amanda and jumps to her feet. She shifts Saavik in her arms and, carefully, holds her over to Chris.

Who takes her and places onto the empty space right by Spock’s pillow.

“Wa?” Saavik stretches out her tiny fist and glances at Chris.

“That’s your other daddy,” says Chris gently. “See?” He pulls on his own. “He’s got same ears as you, not like you dad and granddad.”

“Da,” goos Saavik and turns her head to the lying still body. “Wah?”

Don’t have to be smart and old to see Spock looks like death.

“He’s sleeping, tiger,” goes on Chris softly. “But he’ll be very happy to see you, come on, wake him up.”

Chris notices, if with the corner of his eye, that Amanda holds her breath.

And Saavik? Guess Saavik  pulls.


	10. Where Spock Is in the Middle

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This one goes to @Rebd  
> Yeah, you’ve called it 🙃😂😉

He does not remember what day it is. Or should be. Month...? That Spock might be able to figure out. 

If he could.

If he did not find his consciousness slowly leaving him, all power and energy draining him. 

If he would happen to remember why. Or his own name, right, perhaps that he could still recall...

Jim.

This name Spock remembers.

Jim.

He stops in the middle of nowhere. The nothingness, neither dark nor light, swirls all around, engulfs him and gobbles him up.

He feels like flying. Is he...?

He does not seem to remember how he ended up in there. He raises his hand and flexes his fingers. Closes his fist and releases it.

He feels nothing. The nothingness, heavy and yet light as a fog, washes over him.

It’s then when he feels  this.

“Da!” and comes the rough pull.

“A-ah!” Spock yelps.

The sudden force grasps around his waist and yanks him up. Too rough, too tight, and yet too– too... much. Of everything.

The force plucks him out, the nothingness fights back, lashes and snakes around Spock’s legs, tries to pull him back down, the other force closes too tight around his ribs, it does not give in.

Spock propels above it all. He gasps for air, breathing more clear, deeper than all this time. His memories rush over him, flash at the back of his head and in front of his right.

Jim, right. He has loved Jim more than everything, they should have been together, they should have bonded and stayed forever...

“The correct term would be sa-mekh,” Spock hears his father’s voice.

It is quite peculiar, he has heard it before, and yet before he could not name it. Merely some male voice that kept bothering him in the nothingness.

“Tsk, for all I’d care!” snaps another man, whose voice Spock has never heard before.

The grip around Spock loosens. The nothingness thins out, now he is standing in the white fog.

“Wa-ah.”

With a baby.

Spock freezes as he spots the little girl in the middle of his mindscape. Right in front of him, she lies on the white fog at his feet on her stomach and stretches out her tiny fists towards him.

Little pointy ears poke out from the shirt black hair. Red chubby cheeks.

Spock crumbles down next to her. His hands shake.

“Da...” goos the little girl and blows a split bubble. 

Her name is Saavik. Suddenly, Spock happens to know it.

He chokes as he forgets to breathe. 

Spock takes the tiny girl in his arms. Tears flow down his cheeks, he does not notice it right away. 

“Bo-ah,” protests Saavik. One drops right onto her forehead, and she wiggles and shakes her head. 

Spock holds her close and cries. He does not know how it came to be, he only feels,  knows the little girl is his kin. 

And Jim’s.

Saavik’s fuzzy memories of her dad flood Spock’s mindscape. There’s also some older blond man, who could be Chris Pike, Spock realises.  As close to a father as I’d ever had,  he recalls Jim describing him. A woman with dark skin and short black hair. Nyota Uhura. The grumbling man shakes his finger at Saavik who wrenches a round thing hanging on a cord from his neck, now, that must be Doctor Leonard McCoy. A cheerful other man in red helps Jim out, Saavik cheers as somebody else carries her inside what looks like the engineering deck and holds her up.

“Hey, Spock?” says the same man from before. “Come on, wake up. Jim needs you.” 

The next nudge comes from outside. Spock still holds Saavik in his arms in his mindscape, whereas the punch lands into his cheek.

“Look, here’s your daughter,” laughs the man. “She’s a fighter. Tiger, easy on your father.”

Spock gasps for breath and pulls himself all the way up.

Spock wakes up.

***

Amanda can’t believe her own eyes when he does. She cries out and clasps her hand over her mouth the next second. Tears well in her eyes and stream down her cheeks.

***

Sarek gasps and hardly keeps on his feet. Luckily, he catches himself on the windowsill just behind him.

***

Chris grins. “Way to go, tiger!” he cheers and claps once.

***

Saavik goos happily, as her father holds her close.

***

And Spock sits up, Saavik scooped protectively in his arms, and hugs her to his chest. Gently, his hands shake, his whole body trembles. Spock looks down at the most incredible little girl and thinks she might be the most precious thing he has ever seen.

Saavik agrees. She smiles, and her cheeks flush a darker red shade.

 _Jim’s daughter,_ rushes in Spock’s mind. **_My_** _and Jim’s daughter._ He cannot explain it, cannot comprehend it, and yet...

Spock chooses to believe. He leans in and presses his forehead against his daughter’s.

And Saavik punches him in the jaw.


	11. Where Pike Is Back

It takes Chris a week to agree to wear the Vulcan robes. Because, (a), there’re clearly no other clothes available in all ShiKahr, (b), it’s not like Chris can go on wearing his uniform, the same uniform, for weeks. And, of course, Chris wouldn’t happen to bring any spare clothes, he wasn’t planning on falling through and getting trapped on Vulcan in the first place.

Chris lingers as he passes the mirror in his room. Grimaces, fingers the brown fabric somewhere at his chest and leaves. Chris just doesn’t like the robes, no reason.

No news from Jim come. Chris would hope Jim figured out the device and reversed it... But no. In a week, Spock and Amanda manage to convince Chris they’d better introduce Saavik to the Vulcan Council, to Sarek Chris wouldn’t listen. 

The Council was thrilled. Well, as much as Vulcans can be.

The Science Academy was ecstatic. As much as they’d strongly dislike admitting. 

It takes further four weeks till they get the beaming device working. Although, by that time it’s no beaming decide at all, it’s a whole beaming portal. 

And now Chris enters the sight, about to step through and face his crew... in the most ridiculous outfit. 

“Tsk.” Chris keeps by the side, taps his shoe and looks around. “Hope they haven’t done anything to my ship. They’d better not have done anything to my ship.”

The Enterprise has been going on without its captain for five weeks, and Chris’s First Officer, er, isn’t the brightest guy. It was an accident. Chris was planning to somehow reassign him to any unsuspecting ship the next time they reach a starbase. 

The Vulcans hurry past, they check everything and generally bustle around. 

“Not excited at all, huh,” mutters Chris. He’s had quite enough of Vulcan by now. The daily injections, for him not to suffocate in their atmosphere, the always-present squashing gravity pull, Chris feels like he’s gained a hundred pounds, though as Spock would appease him, it’s only the gravity increasing his body mass thrice. Which is no better as far as Chris is concerned.

Chris likes Spock though. Amanda too, Sarek he can learn to handle. With time.

“Father,” nods Spock as he walks in with Saavik in his arms.

Chris smiles and greets him back. It’s a weird relationship they’ve developed there. Chris was the first to slip into  _son_ when addressing Spock, and for Chris that wasn’t something out of ordinary, after all, he’d occasionally split when talking to a much younger crew person as well. Not with Spock, however, with this particular Vulcan nothing could be taken lightly, Chris has long realised that. 

First, Spock was startled. Then he vigorously denied being addressed as such because it would be factually incorrect as Jim and he weren’t married yet. Chris didn’t fail to notice the yet  slip, and Spock comprehended it too late. Tried to correct himself, sure, and Chris chuckled and patted him on the shoulder.

“Don’t  ask him, son,” said Chris. “Jim has a habit of making stupid decisions when asked to.”

Spock opened his mouth–

“Just tell him you’re getting married, end of story.” Chris burst out laughing at Spock’s horrified expression and patted him on the shoulder again.

“I am to presume...” started Spock cautiously, “that I would have your blessing then?”

Chris blinked processing it. “Do you need it? No, as in  really  need it?”

“My wishes alone are negligible. Despite... everything that has happened, I still desire to have Jim in my life. However, I would never force a bond he does not desire on Jim.”

Chris sighed and groaned under his breath. “He wants it, Jim wants the bond. He wants you, he wants your baby,” Chris gestures to Saavik quietly drooling in Spock’s arms. “Now, don’t  ask  him, son, because he’s told me all of that but freaked out enough not to tell  you  all of it.”

Chris knew he was doing the right thing. Chris hoped Spock would follow the right thing, otherwise, he’s seriously considering abusing his power as captain and administering a ceremony without the parties’ participation.

Now, what Chris wasn’t expecting, though, was that next day, Spock’s started addressing him as  _father_ and absolutely nothing else. Well, Chris had nothing for or against it. 

It kind of pissed Sarek off.

Chris has taken a fancy to doing the little things that pissed Sarek off.

Amanda would split her sides by trying not to laugh out loud at their little family feud.

Anyway, now here they stood. Chris in front of the yet disabled portal, Spock with Saavik behind him. 

The portal’s a large ring built of some kind of special metal. It stands in the corner of the huge hangar, and hundreds of wires and tubes of all sorts run along the floor and hook the ring to the computers and engines. With the power sources installed right, the gateway is expected to become permanent, well, stable and maintainable at the very least. They’ve tried it on small objects before, now, Chris would be the first person to step through.

So, yeah, they did have to introduce Saavik to the Vulcan Council after all. It went not half as bad as Chris expected. Guess, the Vulcans are past the point where they concerned themselves with the fact, that she has red blood and humanoid-placed organs. Or a hafling. Being a girl pretty much made Saavik a goddess if the Vulcans ever had any.

“Launch!” comes a sharp order from behind.

Right.

Chris looks over his shoulder, but Spock steps back already. No way Chris is risking his granddaughter near this thing. 

The ring vibrates, the projecting points switch on one by one, and the surface in the heart of the ring blurs and blazes. 

“Ugh.” Chris shuts his eyes and staggers a step back. The floor shakes under his feet.

The portal comes alive. It stabilises, and all Chris hears is the steady humming on the cosmos on the other side.

“You’d better be right about this,” mutters Chris and walks to the portal. He glances back and spots Amanda and Sarek among the scientists.

Chris shoves his arm inside the portal, he doesn’t feel a thing and so jumps in.

...

“... and then I– A-ah!” 

Chris opens his eyes. First thing, his feet stand firmly on the ground. Second, the person in front of him is shrieking and pointing at him in horror.

Chris whirls his head around, Rigel 4, capital, if he remembers it correctly. Could be Rigel 5, those were built in the same fashion.

And, yeah, a huge, five-feet-tall and same wide portal’s just popped up right in the middle of the city. In the central square, next to the fountain and in front of the main government building. 

Chris takes a deep breath.

Then pokes his head back through the portal and shouts, “It’s alright, we’re through.”

Spock and Saavik join him in a moment.

“A-a-ah!” the person loses in completely and runs off.

Other spectators are mostly cautious. Some call the authorities, some watch them curiously, and some pull their PADDs out to film a new trending video.

“It’s alright,” barks Chris at the nearest group in his captain-voice. “Admiral Christopher Pike, of the USS Enterprise. Star fleet has it under control.”

Now, more switch to filming them. Chris groans and pinches the bridge of his nose. Well, at least the police force, who’s just appeared, have confirmed his identity through a scan and salute him.

They might not like Spock.

“He’s with me,” throws Chris and gestures for Spock to follow him as he strides through the crowd and to the police force.

“Da-wah?” goos Saavik and points his little finger around. She whirls her head and watches everything.

“I need to contact my ship,” says Chris as they reach the officers. 

They take cover in the department. The portal, the authorities order to guard, Chris wonders how much it would take for the Vulcans to try and sneak in. The plan was to wait for Chris to somehow handle it. 

Somehow, huh.


	12. Where Everyone Gets What They've Wanted

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> OMG, just noticed I've been writing this story for a month! Guys, you're amazing, thanks for all the comments and support, and kudos, and bookmarks 💜 💛 💚
> 
> Love ya all ;)
> 
> xxx

The USS Enterprise arrives the next day. Spock... feels uneasy, he would not be able to deny it even if he tried. He does not try, not really.

Spock stands on the landing sight with Saavik in his arms. His daughter goos happily and slaps his shoulder a few times.

The ship lands, and the receiving port’s crew hurry to dock it in properly. Christopher walks closer and gestures for Spock to follow, thus, approaching at this point must be safe.

As the door opens, and a pathway moves out–

“Dad!” Jim runs out first. “Where’s Saa–“

He notices Spock. With Saavik. Freezes in his tracks and stares, his mouth agape.

Christopher chuckles and steps aside, after Jim hurries some woman in red.

Spock strides closer and stops right in front of Jim.

“Jim,” Spock starts.

“Erm, hey...” Jim keeps glancing around, he looks anywhere but at Spock.

“Da,” shouts Saavik, jerks around in Spock’s grasp and reaches for her dad.

“See you’ve met Saavik...” Jim blushes and shifts from one foot to the other. Uneasy,

“Wa. Da,” she wriggles to get to Jim, and so Spock hands her over.

“Hey, princess,” says Jim softly and cradles her in his arms. “How you’ve been doing?” He leans in and places a quick kiss on her forehead.

“Wa.” Saavik knits her eyebrows together and pulls a frown.

Jim laughs. Happy.

“Care–“

And then Saavik kicks Jim.

“... full.” Spock finishes too late.

“Ouch, hey,” Jim winces and shakes his finger at their daughter. She grabs it and bites. “Easy there, daddy’s almost forgotten how much of a fighter you are.” Proud.

Spock feels too content for his liking when he picks up Jim’s emotions that easily. He watches Jim closely. Every move, every flicker and every emotion passing Jim’s features. The way his forehead creases when he laughs, or how Jim smiles, the right corner of his lips just a little bit higher than the left.

Their link, the connection they shared is still there. No matter what.

“T’hy’la,” Spock breathes out.

Jim snaps his head up. His adjusted translator cannot get it, they did not include the old tongue in the first place. Jim looks at him curiously.

“We’re getting married according to your customs and bonded per mine,” says Spock as he looks straight at Jim. “This is no longer a question.”

* * *

Chris grins. He thinks himself a damn genius for suggesting it and is ridiculously happy that Spock’s decided to take his advice after all. Jim’s notorious for making bad decisions, so at least this one would turn out fine.

From the Enterprise, disembark McCoy and Scotty as well, though Uhura’s the second after Jim. She approaches Chris.

McCoy grumbles about PDA as he points at the couple, Scotty laughs really loud.

Jim looks rather shaken by the sudden announcement. He keeps opening and closing his mouth, tries to say something– Saavik cheers, damn, she can’t understand everything they say, now, can she? Their tiger should be just five months... Chris pauses. He isn’t sure what exactly are five-month olds supposed and not supposed to do.

Spock leans in and kisses Jim softly. That does it, Jim relaxes and smiles, beams wider and wider with the darkest blush taking over his skin. Spock steps closer and wraps his arms around Jim’s shoulders, he holds him close, yet leaving space for Saavik to fit comfortably in between them. She goos happily and drums her hands on both of them.

Jim raises his hand and holds two fingers out. Guess it’s a Vulcan thing, Spock mimics the gesture and presses his to Jim’s.

“... love you,” admits Jim quietly.

Chris glances at Jim and Spock one last time before he turns away and gives them some space. He waves Uhura over, she been watching the two as well. And, mostly, not squealing in excitement.

McCoy grumbles but still huffs a laugh in between. Scotty wolf-whistles when those two kiss again like nobody’s watching. The whole world, well, half of the planet’s capital certainly does.

Chris walks over to the Enterprise, notices that, on the outside, it looks just as he’s left her. Spots more crew members, they salute him, Chris salutes back.

Yet... They kinda salute Uhura as well. And she waves a few about, points and they nod and hurry off to it without a question.

Supposedly, with Chris gone, his dumbass of a First Officer should’ve taken over. Chris can’t see him anywhere, and Uhura was the one to answer their distress call.

“Nyota?” Chris stops and turns around to face her. “What’s happened to my First Officer?”

* * *

Nyota freezes at first. But then, it wasn’t _Lieutenant Uhura, what the fuck’s happened to my First Officer._

So she looks away from the happy couple and turns to face her captain instead.

Nyota pulls on a straight face and with all seriousness says, “We have accidentally left him on Starbase 16. Zentauren-8. So I’ve taken over the command as the next in rank officer, expect for Doctor McCoy and Chief Engineer Scott.”

Pike stares. “Accidentally?”

“Accidentally.” Nyota doesn’t flinch or blink, though keeping the straight face gets harder.

Now, the admiral frowns and narrows his eyes at her. “How do you accidentally leave a man?”

“By pure accident, sir.” She can’t help the sly smirk this time, and Pike gives her a knowing look. “We have a transmission to support out decision, it’s been... slightly modified due to the unexpected weather atmospheric conditions.”

They both burst out laughing.

Pike pinches the bridge of his nose when he stops and sighs, “Good riddance.”

“We haven’t heard from him ever since.” Nyota shrugs. “Perhaps farm life is more to his liking.”

Nyota takes Pike around the ship from this point. It is in the same condition as he’s left them, all engines running perfectly and smoothly, if not better.

“I’ve taken a liberty to rake on a new recruit,” Nyota says as they enter the bridge. “Here. Ensign Chekov right from the Starfleet academy.”

“Keptin,” salutes the said Chekov as he turns around from the controls. Then spots Pike next to her and studies him curiously.

“He’s a little genius,” says Nyota patronisingly. “This is the missing captain, Chekov,” she tells the ensign. “Admiral Christopher Pike, you answer to him now.”

“O.” Chekov jumps to his feet this time, blushes but grins, and salutes again. “Pleasure to serve viz you, sir.”

“You too–“ Pike looks like he’s just bitten the last word he wanted to say.

 _Son,_ Nyota can guess. Pike seems to like Chekov, and Chekov looks like the typical character Pike would call son in the first place. For some reason, he doesn’t. Nyota wonders why but decides to leave it for later and shows Pike around the bridge instead, then come the data reports.

Pike only glances through them. They turn to go outside.

Nyota’s already on the other side of the passage when she notices Pike isn’t by her side anymore.

“And Uhura?” he calls out the same moment.

Nyota looks behind.

Pike lingers in the ship’s door. He grins. ”You make a good captain.”


	13. Where Chekov Causes Disaccord

“Ga-dah,” says Saavik and raises her little chubby arms up. “Ga-dah.”

She sits on the fluffy carpet, in the middle of the special play zone set up for her on the Enterprise. 

Both Chris and Sarek jump to their feet and rush over to the border. The first smirks at the later, Sarek knits his eyebrows together and pretends to miss the point. Chris knows better.

“Heard that?” Chris grins. “That  definitely  was for me, you don’t have to, go sit back.”

“I presume,” starts Sarek coldly, “that you infer from the sound my granddaughter has just made that she was meaning to say  granddad. ” 

Chris shrugs. “She did.”

Sarek raises one eyebrow and leans over the edge to Saavik. He reaches out for her.

“Ga-dah,” repeats Saavik and raises her arms to him.

Sarek... kinda smirks back at Chris. The Vulcan smug equivalent of it anyway.

“As you can see, even if she was trying to say  granddad  it could as well be me.”

Chris huffs. “Move.” He ushers Sarek from the spot and leans to Saavik instead. “Clearly, she wants you to fetch me.”

“I would–“

“If it was,  indeed, ” Chris mimics Sarek’s usual tone, “you, she would have said sa- or something. Now, that’s a  granddad,  and that’s me. Isn’t it, tiger?” Chris leans to Saavik and tries to pick her up.

“Ga-kah,” protests Saavik and shakes her head. 

Chris straightens his back and steps back. Sarek watches her in confusion as well as he lifts his second eyebrow.

“Ga-a-kah,” tries Saavik again, this time much louder. She pouts her lips, her chubby cheeks flush crimson.

“Er, Keptin?” comes from behind.

Both Chris and Sarek turn around. Ensign Chekov smiles sheepishly, some bowl with a spoon in his hands. Inside’s some warm food, it smells fine, yet Chris has no idea what the brown grain-like substance is.

“I sink...” Chekov wobbles in between them and closer to the play ring. He looks generally very uneasy, perhaps embarrassed.

“Ga-dah,” beams Saavik and points at Chekov. “Ga-dah.”

Or, wait, more so at the bowl in his hands. Chris and Sarek look equally not amused.

“I sink she means vis, keptin.” Chekov crouches next to the playground’s barrier, and Saavik crawls closer herself. “Гречневая каша,” says Chekov in his own language and holds the bowl higher. “It’s porridge,” he tells them. “She’s heard me saying it,” Chekov scoops a spoonful and offers it to Saavik, which she gobbles up, “zen started calling out ze first syllables of bos vords.”

“Wah,” agrees Saavik happily and munches on the next spoon.

“She likes it,” beams Chekov...

And meets his captain’s stern gaze. Sarek doesn’t seem to like him as well.

Chekov pales and blurts out, “Please don’t demote me ozer zis!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> That’s buckwheat porridge, guys. It tastes rather good, and is okay for babies


	14. As a Post Word

“Gary, you’re out of your damn mind!” exclaims Hashar as he strides after his friend inside the flat.

“Why?” Gary Mitchel laughs and waves him off. “Come on, Hay, he’s the one.”

“You’ve said that for the past three guys,” grumbles his friend. “And they’ve all, I’m sorry, they did all leave you! How’s this one any better!?”

Surprisingly to Hashar, Gary takes no offence. Guess, it’s worse than Hashar had feared, Gary clearly sees absolutely everything in pink this time. Well, same as always.

Gary laughs and shrugs. “He actually loves me?” He hangs his coat and offers to take his friend’s as well.

“That’s what they all say!” hisses Hashar and grabs Gary by the collar. He gives him a good shake. “They hate our kind, remember? And this one...”

Gary, though gently, but still forcefully pushes Hashar away. 

“... this one’s not even ...!” Hashar throws his hands up. “What  is  this one even?”

Gary gestures to Hashar to come in and stop blocking the doorway.

“Vulcan,” Gary says and unties his shoes. “Tol is Vulcan.” 

Hashar groans.

“Jim’s married one,” points out Gary and touches his toes to the hill of Hashar’s snicker.

“What? We don’t wear shoes inside the house now?”

Gary chuckles and shrugs, he wiggles his toes and just turns his back to Hashar to walk in.

Hashar groans louder yet kicks out his shoes.

“How can you–“ Hashar falls silent.

“Welcome back,” says the Vulcan in question. Tolaris sits on the sofa like no normal person would, no, this guy has to sit up straight as if there’s a metal pole up his ass.

Perhaps, there’s. Might explain the character.

Hashar narrows his eyes and points right at him, fuck property and common humanoid courtesy. “You!” 

Gary walks over and kisses the Vulcan on the cheek. “Hey, honey.” Gary perches himself on the arm of the sofa and leans on the said Vulcan.

Tolaris keeps the stoic face and nods solemnly, though his entire face flushes a deep green up to the ears.

Pointy ears.

Suspicious pointy ears, which Hashar doesn’t like already.

“What’ve you done to him?!” exclaims Hashar and waves in between the two. “I mean, okay, Gary’s always been air-headed but this is too much even for you!”

The damn Vulcan raises his annoyingly thin eyebrows.

“Hay,” starts Gary, but Hashar cuts him off.

“Don’t  Hay  me, you’re literally marrying a guy you’ve met last week and moving to live on  another plantet!”  Hashar slips into hissing, his split tongue shows and the vertical pupils shrink even thinner. “ Try  another potentially dangerous plantet with higher gravity and lower air density across the whole galaxy!”

Hashar’s a hafling. His mother’s xeno-heritage be damned, the male-pregnant problem related to him as much as it did to Gary and Jim.

Well, Jim he was too late to save, he’s off on the Enterprise to somewhere sailing across the galaxy with his annoying Vulcan husband on board as well. As some kind of ambassador-slash-to be officer. The discussions are concluding, and as much as the Federation seems happy to have the Vulcans in, and they are positively content to enter, the same much Hashar hates the whole thing. With the portal installed to Rigel, their city will be crawling the pointy-eared hobgoblins in but a few weeks!

Hashar might still save Gary from yet another mistake of his life.

“You can’t possibly want to marry a guy you’ve met last week,” repeats Hashar calmly. “And you,” Hashar points at the Vulcan before Gary opens his mouth, “you guys have no emotions whatsoever to make the most illogical decision about marrying a guy you’ve met last week.”

Hashar grins triumphantly and places his hands on his side.

Tolaris doesn’t look offended. In fact, not a muscle flinches on his face. “Gary is my mate,” he says as a matter of fact. “We were meant to be, hence, it is most logical for us to get married.”

Hashar groans and throws his hands up. “Shut. Up!”

The Vulcan stares–

“Honey,” whispers Gary, and leans close enough for his lips to graze the pointy greening ear, “it’s an expression. Hay doesn’t mean it  literally.”

Hashar groans even louder this time.

“What about Joyce and Jordan?!” Hashar snaps. “Remember how it turned out  the last time you’ve thought that bastard was the one?!”

Gary glances at the Vulcan, aha! Hashar sneers in triumph.

“You aren’t possibly thinking of letting them anywhere near those things, are you?” Gary narrows his eyes.

“I assure you, ashayam, it is perfectly safe. The sehlats are tame and gentle, I would not have mentioned it otherwise.”

Er... who?

“Our children would be perfectly safe,” continues the Vulcan and ignores Hashar’s heavy glare.

Wait.

Our!?  Like wha-a-at!? The last time Hashar’s checked, that bastard who Gary used to date left him when he found out about the twins. Even threatened Gary to abort them, otherwise, they’d be over. Gary kept them still... Hashar threw the bastard out, that was five years ago.

It before Hashar gets to properly breathe in for the outburst–

“I’ve packed my big bag, dad,” shouts Joyce and she runs inside the room. In each of her hands she carries a bright, unzipped and empty, rucksack. Yellow and dark green. “Can I take two, sa-mekh?” she asks and looks at Tolaris. “I can’t carry two.”

Hashar takes a cough.

“Oh.” Joyce whirls around and beams. “Hey, uncle Hashar, we’re leaving tomorrow. You’ll see us off, right?”

Tomorrow. 

“Tomorrow!?” Hashar cries out.

Gary winces and gestures for him to calm down a little.

“Tomorrow, at 10:30 am, local time,” announced the damn Vulcan as a matter of fact. “I shall take the other for you, daughter,” he tells Joyce.

“Thanks, sa-mekh.” She cheers and runs out to her room.

Hashar glares. Gary rises and walks to him–

“What was that?” Hashar just waves him off and looks about the room to sit down. Preferably as far as possible from the sofa where Tolaris still hasn’t moved. “The word she used?”

“Ah.” Gary beams as he helps Hashar onto a chair. “It’s Vulcan.”

Right. Hashar hisses.

“... means  father ?” Gary continues sheepishly and jumps back right away.

Hashar’s pupils shrink to slits.

“...I was about to tell you–“ tries Gary.

“Never mind!” Hashar snaps and jumps to his feet. “You’re crazy.” He points at Gary. “You, I hate,” he points at the Vulcan, “and whatever you’ve done to poor Joyce, I’m not having it! Somebody should have their brains intact in this house! Jordan! Jordan!”

And with that, Hashar marches across the whole flat and yanks the door to the twins room open.

Gary hurries after him, and yet Hashar slams the door in his face and leans against it. Well, it’ll work, Hashar’s almost twice as heavy, unless that damn Vulcan gets his stuck-up ass off the sofa. Hashar’s heard those guys are thrice as strong as an average humanoid.

Hashar spots Jordan sitting on the floor by the window, the boy packs his rucksack. Joyce sits on the bed, her legs tucked underneath her and many things scattered around her.

“Jordan?” Hashar calls out. “I though you’ve promised me to look out for you dad,” he says sternly.

“I do.” Jordan struggles to zip his backpack.

“Then what–“ Hashar cuts himself off, not in front of the kids, sure. He lowers his voice but breaks into hissing in the end, “What is  that? ”

“Not  what, ” corrects Joyce. “ Who. ”

Hashar glares.

“Technically, sa-mekh is a person, so you should say who, uncle Hashar,” Joyce points out and shrugs.

Hashar groans.

“He ain’t leaving dad,” chimes in Jordan.

“That’s what he said,” Hashar sighs. “Isn’t it?”

The twins nod. Hashar groans.

“People lie, kids–“

“Vulcans don’t,” interrupts Jordan, gets up to his feet and walks over. “Besides, he’d die if he does.”

Jordan grasps a handful of fabric where he can reach on Hashar’s trousers and tugs. “I look out for dad. Tolaris said a Vulcan dies if separated from their spouse, he’s marrying dad so it should be okay.”

“And he’s taking us too,” joins Joyce. 

“Uh-huh, he said he wants us all.” Jordan.

“We’re a package deal,” grins Joyce. 

By this point, Hashar thinks nothing. He can’t form a coherent though and keeps glancing from twin to twin.

“And, and he has pets! I wanna see the sealats,” says Jordan.

“It’s se-hlats,” corrects Joyce.

Hashar can’t take it. Silently, he curses everything he knows, throws his hands up, whirls around and yanks the door open–

Gary falls inside, Hashar hurries past him and back into the living room.

Not surprisingly, the annoying Vulcan is still there. He sits on the sofa as if nothing’s happened.

“What’s that about?!” Hashar yells.

Tolaris quirks one eyebrow.

“Oh, you know,” gestures Hashar, “lying to the kids? The dying thing!?”

Gary freezes behind him. “... dying?” Dashes around Hashar and faces the Vulcan. “Tol?” Gary crosses his arms over his chest.

Tolaris doesn’tblink.

“Once bonded by the laws of my people,” he replies calmly, “a Vulcan cannot be separated from their mate without consequences. The most common outcomes, although the action leading to them rare, include fatigue, depression and the general body degradation which results in preliminary death.”

He says it as a matter of fact. As if it’s not important at all.

Gary chokes and gasps for breath.

“For a humanoid bonded to a Vulcan we have no record because James Kirk was the first to have done so. However, we hypothesise the bond could be dissolved without any considerable and lasting damage to the other party. You are not psi-high enough to be affected.”

Hashar swears under his breath and finds a nearest anything to slump himself onto. He doesn’t watch the resolving scene much. Gary rushes across the room and throws himself at Tolaris. Gary goes from shouting at his husband to-be to crying, then from trying to hit him to kissing all over.

“... extreme!”

“... unnecessary...”

And, finally, “I’m never, ever, ever leaving you...”

Tolaris blushes green to the tips of his pointy ears and keeps relatively still. The twins poke their head in from the corridor yet stay outside the room.

...

Hashar takes a deep breath.

And sighs.

Pinches the bridge of his nose and shakes his head.

Those Vulcans are... intense.

Hashar looks up, Gary’s all over his Vulcan.

Hashar sighs again before he speaks up.

“Where do I get myself one?”

* * *

Leonard grumbles and rolls his eyes at the sprawled out on the floor body.

“Logical my ass...” He turns away. “Nurse, never mind him,” he shouts as he fetches the tricoder. And Jim? Push! Fuck your pussy of a husband, he’s gonna be okay, push!”

Jim cries out in pain, grips the handrail of the bio capsule so hard that it creaks, and pushes. 

Spock’s lost consciousness when the contractions developed. Leonard hopes the hobgoblin hit his head as he fell, though that would be unfair to Jim.

Now, who’d thought letting Spock was a good idea. Leonard should’ve left him outside with the paranoid granddads, an excited Uhura and Amanda, and Chekov holding the little a year and a half Saavik.

Who’s getting a sister today. A pointy-eared, green-blooded, all-Vulcan little chubby sister.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, yeah, this is it. Thanks for following this story, guys, you’re AMAZING 🤩 💜💚💛
> 
> xxx

**Author's Note:**

> P.s. All I want for Christmas is a full inbox ;)
> 
> ... although I celebrate Yule instead of Christmas but you get the drift.


End file.
